


the wrong number

by thebutterflydelusion



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Love Confessions, Oneshot, Relationship Advice, Romance, Slice of Life, Writing Prompt, awkward attempt at a good ending, dude it's the briefest mention of changbin, fem reader sorry my gays, literally i don't know, they bicker a ton, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebutterflydelusion/pseuds/thebutterflydelusion
Summary: in which minho called the wrong number and confessed his love to you before you could get a word in.
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	the wrong number

♡ — 12:47am (“it’s not your destiny to love someone who will only make you cry.”)

“I love you!” The voice coming from your phone was desperate and full of pining. “I love you so fucking much it hurts. You can’t leave! Please, I asked Changbin for your number, It’s me Minho, just please don’t leave me, us for him. Stay. I have waited for you for so long.”

Jaw falling down, you gaped. This could not be happening. You tried to edge a word in to spare some humiliation but he wasn’t finished.

“I’m always second choice to him, please! He’s not worth your love… and neither am I, but he doesn’t love you! I love you. I want you to feel the love you deserve, I will give you everything I have if you give me a chance! What about that time when we were alone? If he hadn’t saved you first, would I have been the one you’re chasing?”

You winced, “I... I think you might have the wrong number.”

In your opinion, whoever the call was intended to must’ve been hit in the head with a rock if they were leaving this lovesick ‘Minho’ for a different jerk.

There was a long pause before Minho mumbled, “Oh fuck.”

His timbre was dull and flat, despair seeping out of it. “Sorry to bother you. Again, sorry.”

You sensed he was going to hang up, but oddly enough you didn’t want him to. There was something fascinating about a human exposing their rawest self at first impression, something hardly anyone with manners, mental scars, and social experiences did.

You exclaimed, “No no, it’s okay! ...Er sorry, that sounded too enthusiastic for your situation.”

Gosh, the word _situation_ sounded so harsh and you sounded so distant... gosh, fucking words and stupid lack of social skills.

“I uhm, are you okay?” Fumbling on yourself words, you rolled your eyes at your stupid question.

“I mean like, do you want to talk about it? I know this probably sounds creepy coming from a stranger but I think we’re not really strangers at this point, you confessing and me grandly rejecting you.”

The awkward silence was deafening. “Yikes. Bad joke. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He chuckled bitterly. “I think I could handle that kind of joke compared to this. First, if I'm spilling my guts I need to make sure you’re not some turned FBI agent who’s trying to kill me or some freaky ass who’s selling my information online.”

A trace of a smile seemed to reach his lips, you could tell from his voice. You sat down, racking your brain for ways to prove you’re a broke college student pushover.

“Well… I'm Y/N! Literature major, junior year. Don’t really know how to prove I’m not a boomer selling your information but—hey! I said boomer, millennial slang and shit. Oh Jesus I definitely sound like a sixty-year-old man trying to be cool—you’ll just have to trust me on this. Your name is Minho, right?”

Minho giggled, his voice running adrenaline-activated shivers down your spine. The fact that you were talking to some random guy who accidentally confessed to you instead of who seemed to be the oblivious love of his life was unreal.

“I believe you at least eighty-two percent, extra ten points for the phrase ‘millennial slang and shit’. And yeah, I'm Minho. I'm also a junior and living in a secret part of Korea because I don’t know about you, but I’m still kind of paranoid!”

He sighed, “This is really weird but I’ll stop stalling now. I guess the reason I’m calling you instead is because she changed her number.”

You tried to ask cautiously but your curiosity overflowed. “So what did you mean when you told her not to leave? And who’s the asshole who doesn’t love her? Have they dated? What happened the night you guys were alone?”

A stunned pause. Minho remarked, “Wow, you really did pay attention. What, are you in love with me or something? _Jealous_?” The flirtatious teasing was syringed with poison. Still it was bait and you, the prey, were inevitably drawn to it.

“Romance and love are valuable to me, I guess. But oh yes, I’m already on my train to find you and stop you so we can hop onto that wedding altar I just set up.”

The sarcasm was dreadful and the two of you laughed deliriously, possibly at the weird adrenaline and probability of this situation. But also probably because of sleep depravity.

“Wait, stop! You keep distracting me, Minho. Tell me the story unless you’re not comfortable. We can always talk about other stuff as a distraction,” Without you knowing it, a grin had made its way on your lips as you sat in your dorm alone.

“Well so-rry I’m so charismatic you can’t help but listen! I’m comfortable, don’t worry. You’re pretty easy to talk to, Y/N. But okay, i’m going to start from the very very beginning.”

You made a small and breathy noise of understanding, “Mm.”

Minho sighed shakily and wiped his sweaty palms. “The first time I met her, we were at this frat party and there was this sleazy guy that was hovering too close. That fucking bastard. She looked pretty that night but she was biting her lip and looked like she was about to cry.”

“She’s so innocent in that way, Y/N. To this day I still don’t know why she was there. I was about to go and stop him but I wasn't the first one to notice. Hyunjin. He went and punched the guy. He's always been one who does what he wants and everyone loves him. I was walking pretty fast to get over there but as soon as he showed, I stopped.”

He was enamored. Somehow, you couldn’t help but swoon. Minho seemed like a one-woman man. That was more than enough hope for a romantic, sentimental idealist like you.

“I would have looked lame but now I fucking regret being such a coward. Do you think… if I had walked faster, no, if I ran, she would be with me right now?”

You pursed your lips and chided him softly, “There’s no way of knowing that now. Minho, don’t live in the land of regret and what-if’s. You miss out on a lot when you go for a visit and end up being trapped at the hotel because it’s all fucking free.”

He laughed at your quirky analogy. “That’s a good one! But I don’t know, the free hotel is very tempting… 8 don’t know if I’ll ever genuinely move on.”

His voice faltered. “Ugh, sorry I sound so mopey. I just don’t think I realized what love felt like until I felt it for her.”

Your heart clenched. It must be nice to be loved in such a grand, dramatic gesture from such an expressive man. And she didn’t even acknowledge him.

“No, I understand,” you grimaced. “Keep going.”

You pondered in the seconds of stillness. The truth is, have you ever felt love before? Sure, you’ve had crushes but that was only skin deep. Attractive people just naturally cause heart flutters, Not soul flutters. The idea of someone being brokenhearted and looking for love again was a poisoned sweetness to you, the idea of finding love again nostalgically pleasant without ever having felt it. Ever.

Yawning, Minho continued, “And they dated. Her and Hyunjin, I mean. And Hyunjin’s not an asshole, but he doesn’t know his own feelings. He mixes up lust and physical attraction with love. They've been together for a year. She loves him. Then, he confused himself in a way that makes me want to beat the hell out of him. He stopped finding her beautiful. Isn’t it pathetic? How can he ever get over her smile and the way she scrunches her nose when scolding someone but can’t ever stay mad at them for long? And that look in her eye when she’s confused as her jaw drops and everything? How can you stop finding someone that’s beautiful, beautiful? He thought he fell out of love with her. That pathetic idiot. They broke up a few days ago.”

You could hear him kicking something, without too much force but enough to show he was angry. You blinked. He was so head over heels for her.

“Wait, so then Hyunjin just scrambled and left to go somewhere? That’s heartless,” you murmured.

Minho tilted his head, static noisily shuffling through the phone. “I would think so too if I didn’t know him.”

Grasping how that came off the wrong tone, he explained, “I'm not trying to condemn you for sympathizing, but being one of his best friends just makes him so human. You know? I can’t bare the thought of Daeun’s heart being broken because of someone else but my fists turn weak when I realize it’s Hyunjin that I’ll be fighting.”

“No, we’re good. You know him, I don’t. But damn. That really sucks. This might not make sense, but does it feel like no one could ever understand, no one else has felt this much of a love and the same amount of pain as you? If so, I want you to know that it will heal. You’ll mend. Generations and generations of people have been feeling the way you are, and beyond as the young think they are the first and only ones that discover these feelings. The older generations understand. They’ve healed and know you’ll mend.”

The tender stranger on the other side of the line chuckled. Minho smiled the smallest wink and said, “You know, you’re somewhat poetic. You talk like you’ve felt all the world’s burdens at some point. How can you be so sure? It doesn’t seem like you’ve been in the same situation but at the same time… you’re too confident to not have your heart broken before.”

Shakily, you laughed. “Not the fuck at all! Would it be shallow and not thoughtful in the slightest if I said that I haven't even fallen in love before? That I’ve only gotten this from books and conversations? I don’t even know if I’ve fallen in love. If I did, I would know, right? Am I just desperate to experience something everyone in the world hypes up to be sparks and fireworks but in the end I'm immune? Is love… boring to me? My expectations might be too high.”

An indignant interlude gave way to each of your own thoughts. Swirling in oceans unexplored before. Dangerous.

He whispered, “A bit shallow, yeah. I admit there’s some sting in labeling me into the love-triangle-ragtag slot. But I don’t think you have ever fallen in love if you aren’t sure. That’s kind of mean of me, isn’t it? Not knowing what you’re going through but still giving my opinion. We have the same flaw.”

“You’re gonna have to do some deep self-exploring on that one. The way you love is only something your heart can control,” Minho added.

Pangs of loneliness placidly punched. You would be the only one to go through this mystery, and you didn’t even know where to start. Aimlessly diving and crashing into rocks.

With a resentful tone, you sighed. “And when did you get so wise? You’re right though, Minho. Thanks.”

A thought bubbled its way into your mind. Inclined to follow the honesty and surreal-ness of this forty-seven minute call, you asked, “Tell me I’m crazy, but how about we meet each other in real life? We obviously speak the same language and live in the same country. As long as you’re not too far away or if you don’t want to, of course! I’m in Seoul right now.”

Minho sucked in a breath, thinking. For only a split second he hesitated. “Let’s do this, Y/N.”

The two of you decided to meet on the bridge of the Han River. You joked, “I would invite you over to my apartment but I’m still not sure this isn’t an elaborate plan to kidnap me, so yeah. What are you wearing?”

After exchanging details, he hung up with the excuse of ‘dramatic suspense’. You agreed, though as soon as the phone indicated the noise of hanging up, you felt a bit alone.

It was good though, giving you time to process everything that just happened. You sank onto the floor of your bedroom and the open window invited the song of grasshoppers and cars rushing by, which you had blocked out while talking to Minho.

A butterfly loop-de-looped in your stomach and these flutters were only just the beginning. Releasing a sigh, you stood up and stared out the window, leaning against the ledge.

 _When did life get so complex? When did you realize how vivid other people’s lives are?_ How different and diverse the lifestyles of others were. No one who looked at you from the street would come to the conclusion that you were meeting a stranger who called you on accident and confessed his love for another.

That cracked a smile on your face. The mysteries of life. They kept coming at you over and over, surprises to be expected. Gazing at the honey-red-white mix of city lights and cars streaming by, minutes flew by.

You glanced at the clock. Time to meet this Minho, this man whose heart was explosive. You threw on a jacket and ran to the bridge.

Reaching the sidewalk of the Hangang River bridge, you squinted. On the other side was an individual, trudging quite slowly.

You speed-walked, hoping it was who you thought it was. You had no idea what he looked like. Honestly you had no idea or expectation of what he looked like, but his voice was lithe, fruity, and silvery.

This individual was wearing what Minho had described himself to be wearing: a black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, Reeboks sneakers, and a cute smile.

That last part had made you giggle. “Only I decide if you have a cute smile, otherwise I might not recognize you, doofus!”

As you got closer, your speed gradually grew reluctant. Were you… shy? He was now only a few steps away.

_Five steps away._

“Y/N? I hope that’s you,” he asked hesitantly. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he tilted his head with what was a cute smile, in your opinion.

You blinked. He was handsome. His teeth were a flashing white and his smile was confident. His eyes crinkled into crescents. Minho had failed to mention you’d be a shy mess when you saw his features.

Still, he wasn’t as suave as you thought he’d be, glancing away every few seconds nervously. Confidence drives the desperate.

“Well frick, Minho! I really thought your smile was gonna be cute.” Tauntingly, you grinned.

Ah yes, sarcasm, the ultimate wall for your feelings. Still, your words melted together, r’s tripping up.

_Three steps away._

He giggled. Taking one step closer, he replied, “I beg to differ. You sure you don’t think my smile is cute? You’re in denial.”

His words were cocky but from his body language he was definitely skittish as well. Probably not because of the same reason though.

You took a foot back. “Fine, but only to save your ego: your smile is cute.”

The two of you awkwardly fumbled around with jokes until Minho wondered, “so why did you want to meet up?”

A pout formed on your lips as you thought. “Good question! I don’t know why… maybe just how dreamlike it was and the impossibility of the situation. Maybe you and I both needed someone to talk to. After all, you said yes.” you shrugged.

He leaned against the railing of the bridge. Stable and yet nothing could stop someone from jumping or cars crashing and breaking against it. Life could be so easily dosed out. But not love.

“Mmm yeah.” His eyes were glazed over. You felt it. He wasn’t even here with you right now, his mind reached out for someone who never looked his way twice.

It pinched. It shouldn’t have. But even then, you felt the need for someone to listen or someone to listen to. And that someone, in this moment, beyond the chances of all the other people in the world, was Minho.

“Can I ask you something?” You stared at his side profile and he turned to meet your eyes.

His eyes were so pretty. A half-smile curled around his face, illuminated in the man-made light. “Shoot away.”

“What happened that time you guys were alone? You and Daeun, I mean.”

“Hmm, what happened? I wish I knew too. It was the moment I realized I was infatuated with her. Slowly, gradually, then all at once; to paraphrase John Green. And… it was raining that day.”

His smile didn’t reach his glittering eyes as he was silent. You poked his arm playfully. “You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger after that romantic description! Unless you don’t want to, of course. Because consent matters, kiddos.”

Minho wryly grinned, “Amen, bitch. But uh yeah I’ll tell you.” He played with his fingers as a habit of soothing himself, his nerves and heavy emotions.

“It was raining and she didn’t have an umbrella. I remember hearing a distinct, ‘Fuck my life!’ and rain and running. I ran over to her, umbrella in hand, calling out her name. Y/N… isn’t it creepy how often a name of tumbles out of your lips when you like them? As if it’s some sort of talisman, comfort, prayer. Her name is so beautiful. _Daeun_.”

“And you say I'm poetic. Gosh you’re so charismatic, how am I supposed to respond but yes, yes you lightning-struck fool?” Your left eyebrow went up with a playful, questioning, but flimsy glance.

The way he said her name. The way he cherished it, his eyes softening as he said it. Her name was a declaration of love to him and he yearned for her to call his name the way he did. Would someone ever say your name that way too?

Was it selfish to think wistful thoughts for yourself amidst the heartbroken? Or were you just that fricking paranoid that he could hear your mind screaming?

Your expression was painted somber as he continued, “Uhm, anyways I was using a frog umbrella!”

The tension eased and the mood lifted. The two of you laughed. “Oh my gosh! Are you seriously telling me you ran up to her trying to be a prince charming without a foot fetish, with _the_ umbrella I'm imaging?”

Mock-offended, Minho struck his heart with his hand. His jaw exaggeratedly dropped. “How dare you? Daeun complimented it! She said it was cute! And it was for three dollars!”

“...That’s bullshit. Which store? We’re going there right now.”

“Wow, what happened to making fun of my umbrella? You nasty. But I don’t know, I got it from a yard sale,” he jerked his head forward a bit, laughing.

You stuck your tongue out and said, “You you oaf! What happened after you gave her the umbrella though?”

“Oaf? For someone who’s a literature major, you’re not very well-versed in words.” Minho giggled, wearing a boyish smile. That _rat bastard. That smile was cute._

“Buuuut after I gave her the umbrella, I said… oh Jesus I'm getting trauma from what I said. I'm still cringing so much. Oh my gosh, fuck me! I’m so stupid, oh Lord.”

He shut his eyes, embarrassment controlling his movements. Shaking his head, he shouted at the river.

“Oh, do we classify this as a ‘thing that happened five years ago that I remember in the shower’ kind of thing? You better tell me!”

You were enjoying this too much. Far too much. You’d become fast friends with this loser, and yet every time he looked at you, that butterfly in your stomach competed for the Flutter Olympics.

It seemed Minho was facing the same dilemma. Of course, he wasn’t into you like that already. It’s just that your eyes were shining. You were pretty. Physical attraction really was the worst in mucking up relationships. Hyunjin could relate.

His lips curled into a bitter smirk and he retorted, “This is definitely not one of those… okay yeah it is, and also in the ‘had to be stopped by friends to not embarrass myself by running to her and trying to explain’. I said… the umbrella was cute but not as much as her.”

You snickered. What a cheesy fool. “You really get all the girls on campus, don’t you? You remind me of that guy that Eunjae of _Hello My Twenties_ first had a crush on.”

“We talked about that too. Not the kdrama, but the girls on campus liking me. I guess some freshmen or sophomores like me? I couldn’t guess why and I said I wished I did so I wouldn’t lead them on.” Playing with his fingers again, Minho sighed.

“Also, I have to tell you something. This is really random… and you have to swear you won’t tell anyone because…”

You blinked. So much tension and drama and secrets in this boy, you couldn’t ever find it boring. And yet, it was exhaustively sad how you compared how exciting his life was compared to yours.

 _Stupid! He’s here feeling like shit and you’re jealous of that?_ You scolded yourself but your heart whispered yes.

Perplexed duck lips on your face, you asked, “Because? And ew, swearing is lame! We’re doing pinkie promises or nothing.”

“Because I haven’t told anyone else this before and it’s crazy if you’re who I think you are. Because then you would already know my secret. Chances aren’t that slim, right?” Minho scratched the back of his neck, fidgety.

Your eyebrows scrunched together. What the fuck, did he steal something from you before? “Jeez, what’s with the cryptic wording? Just tell me.”

He pursed his lips before asking, “You’re Y/N of Midnight Zero, right? The radio host?”

You were stunned. How did he know? How did he come to that conclusion? “How did you…?”

“Ah damn, it really is you. Now that’s embarrassing. and weird. The same name and close enough voices are just the same person. Mmm, just guess which love letter you read in the last two weeks was mine.”

You were still spellbound. Rarely anyone realized that it was you. Your radio station wasn’t as popular as many others but the numbers were growing. It reached Minho too? And he sent a love-fucking-letter? Hesitant, you guessed, “Military Tragedy?”

He shook his head. “You look like those anime girls, your eyes are so big right now. Do you need a moment to get over how popular you are as you've noticed?”

It was true. Your eyes were wide open, mouth closing and opening. He was wrong though, about looking like an anime girl. Minho was being too nice, you actually looked like a fish.

“I... just don’t understand. How could any of these coincidences led to…? Our situation is so weird, what the heck?”

You shook your head, waving your hands as if to reject the freaky coincidences.

You exclaimed, “Never mind that! I have to keep guessing. ‘Blue in braces’? No wait you don’t have braces… are you about to, though? No, how about ‘captain of mixed signals’?”

“The only one you haven’t mentioned is the one I wrote.” The tips of his ears were red.

Almost inaudibly, you murmured, “‘Fool for a pretty you’?” Dreamlike situation indeed.

Minho shot finger guns at you half-heartedly. “Bingo. It was really dumb, I’m sorry. i—“ he bit his lip. “Say something please?”

_Choi Hanyeol, the clumsy and sweet butterfinger girly, started off with her usual greeting, “Welcome to Midnight Zero once again! It’s a quiet night, isn’t it? Regardless, the stars are still up there. I hope you all are well. Y/N, what’s tonight’s story?”_

_A smile lingered in your voice as you answered, “An unsent love letter from a mystery man who goes by the pseudonym of ‘a fool for a pretty u’! That’s so cute, he’s such a goner.”_

_Laura Juyoung Song, the gentle dove of a girl, exclaimed, “That poor boy! Hurry and read the letter!”_

_You held the notebook paper in your hands, the scribbled words seeming rushed, as if in a hurry to get all the feelings out before they consumed the admirer’s mind. The concept of using notebook paper was honestly very cute, kind of giving a school-girl-confession-by-the-lockers vibe._

_“Y/N, stop fangirling at the sweet letter and read it to us already!” Jooha, that dangerously attractive heartbreaker, teased and you winked at her._

_“Okay, but only for you!”_

_A smile easing, you began to read, “God. I’m in love with you. The moment I realized that, I never stopped wishing that I could say that to you, face-to-face. You know, sometimes I just want to scream, ‘FUCK ME’ at you. Your habitual lip bites that turn into pouty lips, the way you rearrange your hair after the wind messes it up and then you flip off the sky. Idiot. You drive me crazy. I see you from far away and always end up turning away with a smile etched on my face. I wish I had the nerve to tell you.”_

_Jooha let out a slow and low whistle. “Homeboy has got it so bad. What a spicy motherfucker he likes.”_

_Hanyeol squealed and gushed, “This girl is so lucky and she doesn’t even know it because he hasn’t given her this love letter! If the guy who wrote this is listening to us—of course he is, he wrote this—you better give it to her! Your feelings are so so valid and it doesn’t hurt to try!”_

_Without the enthusiastic sweetheart noticing, everyone looked at her with the same expression, the ‘isn’t she the cutest?’ type of look._

_“Agreed! But let’s get back to the letter since that isn’t all, right?” Laura herded the group back on topic._

_You cleared your throat and said, “Ah right. I guess our Hanyeol is just too adorable for us to concentrate for long.” The honey in your voice was too much for the easily-excited girl and she giggled._

_Continuing, you read, “But to be honest, my reputation as a flirt would never let that fantasy last too long. Just because I’m good-looking and wasn’t ready for a relationship doesn’t mean I don’t get to be happy too without somebody ruining it for me for trying to change. I like you. Is that karma for breaking someone’s heart? If so, whose? How can I make it up to them so that my heart isn’t broken? This doesn’t make any sense and I’m ashamed of how selfish I am.”_

_That changed the tone of the room. Jooha pursed her lips, this topic all too familiar to her. “Well,” she started, “That’s just what happens, isn’t it? You’re a flirt, then people are bound to get hurt as their feelings were played with. I know that sounds bitchy but it comes from a flirt herself. God, did I just refer to myself in third person? Sue me. But anyways, even the fact that you’ve mentioned change shows you’re aware of your mistakes. I think that’s more than enough for a first step to change. And what’s done is done, you can’t do anything for a broken heart when you don’t mean it. Love is risky, but that risk is so beautiful in hindsight if you reach the end.”_

_A sad grin made its way on her face as she whispered out of the mic’s range, “But it really really hurts when you mean it but all you do is harm them. So you have to go.”_

_Laura touched Jooha’s hand softly. Between the four of you, the former heartbreaker’s story was infamous. A heady teenage love, becoming just like the person she hated, and deciding it was for the best that she left him alone so she wouldn’t hurt him again._

_Your heart squeezed for this girl who you’d gotten so close to in the last few months._

_Laura’s silky voice lightly teased, “All those deep feelings but instead you decide to make snarky comments all the time.”_

_“That’s me babe!” Jooha’s voice strengthened into its usual alluring and velvety self._

_You fake-coughed loudly. This was already much more intense than most nights and this letter was damn long unlike your patience. But it was nice seeing girls supporting girls._

_“Stop flirting! Let’s get to the last paragraph now.”_

_Hanyeol nodded sternly in agreement. “Yeah! You two better stop!”_

_You laughed, your eyebrow raised bemusedly. The sight of a frowning Hanyeol was like seeing the ‘ >:[‘ emoticon in real life. “So, anyways: I know I want to change for you. I ...my heart beats differently when you walk in the room. I want you to feel the same about me. So fucking much. Sincerely, a fool for a pretty u.”_

You opened your mouth and crowed, “You—you motherfucker!”

Blinking a couple of times, Minho made a quizzical expression, his lips twitching in bewildered amusement. “M-me?” He pointed to himself.

“Yes, you! You didn’t go after her, what the heck? Hanyeol would be so disappointed! You just did not follow our advice. Also you can’t surprise me like that—oh my gosh! The _hell_? That’s _you_? Wow.”

You slowly slid down to the ground. “This has been the only day of my life that’s had so many plot twists.”

He slid down along with you, back leaning on the railing. The bedazzling once-stranger retorted, “You think you’re the only one?”

“Wait, you should get up. It’s apparently not good for women to sit down on cold grounds. Daeun told me that.”

Pushing himself off the ground with his hands, he stood up and offered you a hand.

“Hmmm, thanks!” Your grandmother had told you that too but you always forgot why. _I bet it’s about babies. It always is, anyways._

Is he really this ignorant or just that nice? You thought the letter was a bit much but you understood how those girls would end up calling him a player with all these sweet gestures.

You took his hand, ignoring the rapidly beating pulse of yours. His hand was warm and the warmth lingered on yours even after he soon let go. Sparks? No. Comforting.

“Do you ever wonder how in those Japanese otome dating games or something, if the main character just said what her monologue said, the game would be so much more fun? Like uhm you know,” you blurted out.

Minho swore. “The fuck?”

You giggled maniacally, joy bubbling up and bursting. It wasn’t even that funny, not at all honestly, but there had been laughter simmering in you as you’d been talking and it finally reached the limit of how much happiness you could take without laughing.

But isn’t it wonderful how humans just can’t contain their joy? You must laugh and let out your emotions. Still … it’s also soul crushing. Sobbing into oblivion, rage so unpredictable, or jealousy like dancing with a knife in hand, emotions such as these can never be concealed for so long. They harvest and bear fruit, whether they’re good or bad.

“Is it really that funny?” He quirked his eyebrow at you.

“Nope! We’re moving on!”

You smiled brightly at him and he didn’t question it any further. The two of you had this flow going and backpedaling in the conversation would put a dam on the stream.

Minho wrung his hands and stated, “So, you’re a radio host.” He blinked. “What’s that like?”

A broad grin crept up your face just thinking about it. “I really do love my job. And I know I sound kind of cringe when I say that but like, I love love it. Like dude! My job is listening to love stories and giving advice and stuff! it’s perfect. It doesn’t pay as well as those normal nine-to-five jobs, but hell if I don’t care. It's what I look forward to in a day. I have other part-time jobs too! The babysitting, cliche barista, piano lessons, odd requests that pay.”

“Well damn. Aren’t you accomplished?” He let out a low whistle. “How do you even get your assignments done?”

“God, I don’t know. This is totally going to sound irresponsible but during babysitting, when I know the kid’s not gonna drown himself, I just do my work then. And after Midnight Zero, I just do my assignments.”

You scrunched your nose and exclaimed, “Now I sound like a complete workaholic! Jesus. What about you? Have a job?”

Nodding, Minho let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I work at a convenience store at night. That’s how I found out about your radio channel and everything, but Daeun told me about it before and I decided to check it out then. My convenience store has a radio because of my manager.”

 _She’s the center of his life_. You’d barely passed the seven minute mark before he brought her up again, even just her name. It wasn’t that you minded that much but it was kind of sad how one-sided all of this was.

His face darkened slightly and you decided to change the subject for his sake. As much as you liked unrequited love stories in books, real life dealt with feelings less eloquently. Wishing peace for the dead, giving respect to the heartbroken.

“Well, what do you think of it? My radio channel I mean. What’s your opinion?” Your eyes sparkled.

Pursing his lips, Minho answered, “It’s pretty good. That sounds lowkey passive aggressive, ha! But yeah it is good. You have a good reading voice. The first one I heard was ‘fairy tale prince’. That one was really… everything I wished could be between Daeun and me. It was so… I don’t know—inspiring? It’s pretty dumb in retrospect. I…”

Oh, he was lying. Body language was everything and his body was practically screaming, “It was a lie!” He was lying. He was embarrassed and quite truly wished that he could have a love story to declare to the world.

And that’s why he sent his letter. For advice...and to be able to write another one with the woman of his dreams right next to him.

Your shoulders sagged. “I don’t think it was dumb. What’s wrong with loving someone? I don’t see anything wrong with that,” you spoke softly.

Minho didn’t respond so you tried again. “If anything, it was healthy for you to let it out somewhere. Liking someone and not telling anyone is hell. Bottling your emotions and concealing the euphoria of her smiling at you. This is gonna sound so fucking cliche but hey. Don’t just keep things to yourself, you’ll explode that way.”

He scoffed and you tensed at the noise. His stoic expression blended with a look of childlike fear.

“You really think so?”

You bobbed your head up and down. “Absolutely!”

 _You know, in a way this is just like Midnight Zero, but you’re just giving advice in person._ You smiled at the thought. Comfortable silence twirled around the two of you, still leaning against the railing of the bridge.

“Hey, wanna go somewhere? It’s kind of cold.” Minho’s left eyebrow quirked as he asked.

Grinning, you looked up at him and teased, “Where to? It better not be far because I’m so cold! It’s not just ‘kind of cold’ you idiot! It’s fucking freezing!”

You were exaggerating of course, but he probably knew that. He giggled and dramatically threw off his sweatshirt and draped it over you. You automatically put it on.

“Here! I’ll be a gentleman,” he smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You put the black sweatshirt on cautiously. Narrowing your eyes and putting your hands on your hips, you asked dubiously, “What’s the price of this good deed?”

Minho didn’t bat an eyelash. “Five hundred won.”

“There it is! There’s the catch. I accept! In fact, I have a coin right now.” You slapped your thigh and reached into your pocket for your (unfortunately) thin wallet.

Oh. You stopped, a revelation hitting you.

The sweatshirt _smelled_ like him. Of course, you hadn’t had the chance to exactly smell Minho but it smelled like him. And he smelled—embarrassing for you to ever admit but in the deepest hiding place of your subconscious—good.

He poked your arm. “Y/N? Did you lose your wallet? You look…?”

This whole time, you didn’t forget that he was attractive. How could you, honestly? But you didn’t expect it to punch you in the gut like that when he gave you his sweatshirt somewhat sweetly.

So this was Lee Minho’s charm. Not his good looks and pretty eyes, but the little things he did, despite how random it was, despite how much he egged you about it, he was kind. The details, the things he noticed about you, and the smiles he gave so willingly.

Maybe you were reading too much into it. Hell, it was late at night and your emotions were just a completely different assortment of colors in the night. But … you could hope. Right?

“Hmm.” A smile melted slowly onto your face. “I’m okay. My wallet’s here, don’t worry.” You took out a coin and placed it in his open palm.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Minho dragged his words, “Ooooookay. I totally believe you.”

You let out a burst of laughter. “I was just thinking that you were such a nice guy! Really, thanks.”

He smirked. “Aw no. You’re getting sappy on me. And damn right you should be! I’m the best guy you’ll ever meet.”

“Don’t be cocky! And wait, where are we going?”

“The myeongdong night market! Let’s go by the metro, I'm sure even our broke asses don’t want to walk for two hours.”

Nodding solemnly, you replied, “Roger that.”

So the two of you found the nearest metro station and made your way below where the moon couldn’t find you. After paying and going through security measures, you stood waiting for the metro.

Even in the light he was like a sculpture. It made you feel a bit… remorseful? You sighed. _Some people are more beautiful in the dark, all the insecurities and marks._ The words of a poem whispered in your ears.

The only ‘some people’ you knew was yourself. It wasn’t that you hated the way you looked but you thought you could always do better. You didn’t hate yourself but you weren’t sure if you were as attractive as the mirror chattered that you were, or how ugly the camera whispered you were.

You were caught in this cycle of not knowing what you looked like. It wasn’t not caring about appearances. It wasn’t … it just wasn’t anything at all. You were average in your own eyes and therefore a background character.

When did life become so boring that you felt like it didn’t revolve around you anymore?

“When you're ten, they call you a prodigy. When you're fifteen, they call you a genius. But once you hit twenty, you're just a normal person.”

The words slipped out of your mouth and Minho turned to you, a laugh dancing on his lips as he asked pointedly, “Huh? Did you get that from the anime Free?”

“... Yeah.” Embarrassingly, he knew where it came from so you had to tell the truth. Your train of thought slipped away as quickly as it came the moment he spoke to you. Minho was bewitching, hypnotic, magnetizing.

He burst out laughing, his eyes turning into crescent moons again and he lowered his head, covering his silly face. “Pfft! You really are...random!”

“As if you aren’t, Mr. Fool for a pretty you’—mmph!”

“Not so fucking loud, you waffle,” Minho hissed, his hand over your mouth.

When he let go, you snapped back, “One more second with that hand of yours on my mouth, I definitely would’ve licked it.”

Cringing, he shuddered. “You could only dream of being allowed to lick my hand, perv.”

You gasped, deeply offended, your hand on your heart in mock-pain. “Oh, you fucker—“

“Look, Y/N! The train is here!”

That bastard. Minho gave you a smug smile, winking. Then he walked on and gestured for you to follow quickly.

You waited for some passengers to get off before you climbed on as well. “You know, I came in after because I have manners unlike someone.”

“Says the one who was thirsting to lick my hand only seconds ago.”

Seeing as there were no empty seats, the two of you held onto handles that were right next to each other. The doors closed and an automatic female voice said something you couldn’t comprehend while trying to come back with a remark.

Dumbfounded, you were left speechless before teasing, “Really quite obsessing over that, are we? Don’t mean to shame but if that’s what gets you going, I pray for you.”

You leaned forward, hand still tightly gripping the plastic handle, and gave him a wide grin as he scoffed. “So what are we doing in the night market?”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing so let’s just do whatever seems fun,” he answered.

“Oi! I know what to do! I watched a documentary about Asian street foods on Netflix and there’s this one thing I’ve been dying to get.”

“And what would that be?”

Your eyes sparked excitedly. “A baked baffle! Here, let me show you a picture!”

You whipped out your phone and looked it up, reading out the ingredients, “Rice baked in a hot pan and topped with egg, cabbage, bacon or shrimp, milk sauce, brown sauce, chilI sauce, and fish flakes’!”

Trying to whistle before realizing the two of you were still in a subway full of grouchy sleepy people, Minho looked curious. “Sounds over the top. But if you’re interested, let’s find it!” He giggled and your heart ached.

Were you falling for Lee Minho? As painful as it was for you to admit, you didn’t know. Too often, much too often your eyes affected your mind. You could never see the line between lust and love beyond the blur and thundering of your heart. It was frightening because you desperately wanted to love someone past their looks but you never knew if you did.

But there was a whisper somewhere in your soul that the once-stranger in front of you was like no one else, the desire in you to know him so strong, to know all the expressions he made, to know why he wakes up every day. It was a small stream of water boldly following an ocean of want.

You smiled. “Yes, sir!”

A few seconds of silence passed before something sparked in your mind. You frowned and put a hand to your hip, eyes narrowing. “Hey, wait! Why did you make fun of me for quoting Free when you knew the quote? That means you watched it too!”

He rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead.

“I didn’t make fun of you, I just called you random. In a way, that’s almost a compliment.”

You cut him off. “Yeah, but only almost.”

“Too bad it’s only almost, hmm Y/N? Besides, did I have a choice? My friend, Jisung, forced me to watch it with him when I lost a bet. I had to watch the first episode like five times—it’s fucking engrained in my memory—the ads too!”

Your heart skipped when he said your name unexpectedly. The tingles rushed from your chest to your toes, like freaking sparks of joy. It was dumb, your quickly-forming crush was just so dumb.

Still, you laughed, your lips unstable to stop smiling. you retorted, “Is that even a punishment? Haru looks fantastic in that first episode and the part where he’s like, Yeah I was on some weird shit back then’—I think that was the first episode—was so funny, oh my God!”

Pursing your lips, you asked a question. “Also, who’s Jisung?”

Minho smirked. “Only one of the only people I know that could genuinely convince me that soulmates exist. Not because he’s a genius at persuading people but because we’re best friends. He’s weird but a good weird. Like you!”

You scrunched your nose distastefully and exclaimed, “Wow, okay! I see how it is. But does he go to your college? What major?”

“We’re roommates, so yeah we go to the same college. He’s a music geek and is a SoundCloud artist with two other guys. Hashtag not sponsored, but if he pays me, I'll watch a hundred dr. stone ads again.”

The way he soullessly made a hashtag symbol with his fingers made you crack up. “You’re such a dork, Minho! Do you know that?”

Making a face, Minho answered, “Am not! I’m the picture of handsomeness and eloquent no-fucks giver.”

“I really can’t disagree with that.”

“What about you though? Do you have roommates? How did you even come up with midnight zero?”

“Hmm? Woah, where did all these questions come from?” You were startled.

“I think it’s fair to ask you these questions since you’ve been grilling me for the last three hours.” He let out a little snort of air from his nose and checked how much time was left before the two of you would exit the metro.

“Ah, true true! So uhhhh, what did you ask again? Oh yeah! Roommates and Midnight Zero. So, roommates: I actually share a dorm with Hanyeol! You know, the cute one in our radio channel.”

You spoke with your hands, clasping them together. “But ah, uhm how I came up with it? To be fair, Hannie and I came up with it together. We were binge-watching Sailor Moon to reminisce and then there was this thing, er episode where there’s this radio channel called Midnight Zero that was actually a villain’s trap. But the idea of it was so good and inspiring that we just brainstormed and wanted to do the whole ‘radio channel about love’. And I don’t believe in fate or anything but the fact that one of the open slots was 14.3 was just a goddamn sign that we had to do this.”

“Why?” Minho tilted his head, perplexed. “Not the believing in fate, but 14.3?”

Thrilled to explain, you clarified, “The number 143 stands for the words ‘I love you’! And you know, a channel about love and everything with the number 143 is just perfect. And hanyeol’s uncle had recently won the lottery and he was so nice—he bought us equipment and everything and the frequency itself! I swear, their family is full of angels.”

The two of you talked in hushed tones for the next few minutes before getting off the metro.

Minho looked happy as he remarked, “It’s still so weird how we’re here.”

You stuffed your hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Yeah, you were still wearing his sweatshirt. His scent enveloped you, as you walked, traces of it danced around your nose. And you just couldn’t get enough. Dammit.

“Yeah?” Distracted as you were with the whole internal-monologue-battle of how it was creepy to like how he smelled versus how irresistible it was, you could only say so much.

“Like you know. We’re two strangers who met only a little more than an hour ago. But no one around us knows that, no one around us knows who we are or how we met. They have their own lives right now, their own conflicts. It’s fucking insane.”

That caught your attention. “Yeah,” you murmured. It was insane. “Yeah.”

“Wow, I’m Mr. Mood Setter, aren’t I? Let’s go spend some money and eliminate our enemies, Y/N!”

“Carpe noctem, fuckers!” The two of you high-fived and immediately regretted it.

You snickered, “...Dude. That was so lame.”

“S-shut up, you did it too.”

Laughing quietly, you and Minho wandered around the streets without any destination in mind except maybe the baked baffle place.

“Oh oh! Wait! Let’s go and buy some food! Then let’s go to the Cheonggyecheon! Oh my god, I haven’t been to the river in forever. It was my entire childhood.”

You smiled, an odd mix of sad nostalgia and happy memories fueling your expression.

“Ah sure. But Cheonggyecheon, damn I haven’t been there in a while either. Is it that important to you?” The words looked kind of harsh laid out but there was only simple curiosity in Minho’s eyes.

The two of you walked towards the food stands as you spoke, your whole body lighting up with happiness. “It’s where I went with my dad a lot! We used to walk along there during summer break, carrying mini-fans and buying popsicles afterwards. We would look at the fish and see which one was the biggest! Then we’d just sit and talk about stuff under the bridge. Domestic bliss.”

Minho laughed and commented, “You get happy about the smallest things! It’s cute, Y/N.”

Why did that affect you so much? Your heart skipped a beat; you could only flush and laugh with pure giddiness. He didn’t specifically say you were cute but that was pretty damn close!

“Thanks.”

Finding different food stands, you got strawberry ice cream while he got spicy tteokbokkI and fish cake.

“Y/N.” Minho whined, “You’re evil, that’s my favorite ice cream! Now I want some of it and my tongue is in pain—sss—it’s too spicy. You got to wear my hoodie and now you’re so warm you can eat ice cream? You jerk.”

You giggled. “If you want, you can have some! But that would be an indirect kiss.” You pushed your lips into a fishy pout and made an obnoxious kissing noise.

He made a face and left your ice cream alone. For some dumb reason, that hurt you more than you thought it would. The reason was simple; you were starting to like him. Like really like him.

But then your conscious kicked in and said what you just did was fucking embarrassing and you should just jump into a hole; hope that it’s the way to Wonderland.

After that, you jumped from food stand to food stand without buying anything and ended up walking towards the Cheonggyecheon. The crisp, breezy air took your hands and kissed your cheeks as a greeting, _salut mon chéri._

Finally you reached your beloved river, flying down the staircase.

“We’re here! We’re really here,” you squealed happily and twirled around to see Minho. Your eyes met his and all you could do was laugh. The joy inside you was so random but it had bubbled up like a volcano, unable to control the output.

“I love being here. I love it here! I would stay here forever if this feeling stays with me.” You sighed and gazed at the inky waters, the stepping stones, the sidewalk lights. Staring, drinking in every detail, you couldn’t get enough of the happiness seeping out of everything you saw here.

Meanwhile, Minho looked at you bumbling around, jumping and laughing. Eyes crinkling, he smiled with a certain fondness. You were really something else. You were … you weren’t exactly precious. That wasn’t the right word. You weren’t something he admired from afar, you were someone who he’d come to be so comfortable with and could confess any struggle to.

That subconscious thought surprised him and he shook his head in disbelief but was unable to deny it. Being at his most vulnerable at first meet was something that he panicked about when you told him he had the wrong number. He was terrified.

He almost expected to sob but there were only resounding pangs of disappointment and a crushing defeat. But in that moment, you had been so delicate with his heart. Actually, fuck that. That wasn’t true. You accidentally hadn’t been gentle at first but with purpose, you gave his heart a kind push, a seed of hope.

“Hey, are you good? I've been blabbering and squealing for the last five minutes and you haven’t said a word. Or moved from that spot.” Glaring, you waved a hand in front of his face.

He caught your hand and glared back, making a hissing noise. “So what? This is a free land. I can stand here as much as I want. And as for your blabbing,” flicking your forehead, he continued. “You can keep doing that. You look happy. Keep doing that.”

With a wry grin, you answered, “Aye, aye captain.”

That night, both of you learned more about each other than anyone else had learned about either in a single night. He shared his insecurities and struggles with you and in time, you would too.

When you and Minho eventually separated that night, you didn’t know it would take an entire month before you could meet him again. It was by fate, by chance, all the coincidences that you’d been free that night, and he had been too.

But after a month, you would come to his door for the first time, with tear-streaked cheeks you would knock and without a word, Minho would instantly embrace you.

You would sob into his shoulder and his smell would come to you. It would be just as you remembered. And again, the two of you would spend the entire night together as you spoke and confessed secrets through gasps, your voice shaking so many times as so many tears were brushed aside by his hands.

Between the next four months, you would call him for hours. You would meet up at random times. Always, it would be a safe place for you and him.

Sure, you would have a massive crush on him at that point. Yes, when he hugged you four months ago, your heart had ached. Yes, every time you called him, your heart thumped wildly at the sound of his voice. Yes, every time you met up with him, you would pick up on the little quirks he repeated and your soul would quiver.

Every part of you would fall in love with him and it was dangerous. But on the flip side, Minho wouldn’t seem to feel the same. He would be typical Minho aside from the fact that he finally would be over Daeun.

And yes, destiny would cruelly play its strings when the two of you met up in Seoul and encountered Daeun and Hyunjin. They would be happy together. glowing. It would be apparent that Hyunjin finally fell in love with all of Daeun. She would be beautiful to him, as she was beautiful all along.

But that day was not a happy day for you and Minho. He would put on a mask of indifference when he saw them, he would smile but a wound had reopened, begging for salve (anger and revenge). You would know he was hurting, you could read him so well at this point. His fist would clench and you would see the way his eyes shook when Daeun asked him if you were his girlfriend.

You would be afraid of his answer, afraid of how it would affect you. What feelings would spiral through you? You were afraid of this desire in you, afraid of how much you wanted to hear his answer but also to never hear it.

Ignoring this mental fight in you, he would deny it with nonchalance and you would just stand there for a moment. Unable to brace yourself, your shoulders would sag. Your heart would sink.

As a distraction, you would look at Daeun and Hyunjin, drinking in who they were and applying what Minho had said about them to their faces.

You would be startled at how physically attractive the two of them were and jealous, unfortunately. It sucked because you knew appearance had little to do with genuine love, had little to do with why Minho loved her, and yet you were disheartened. (Like dude, did you not learn anything while watching _Red Shoes and the Seven Dwarves_ with Minho.)

You would pretend to check your phone and see a notification, pretend to urgently respond to a text from your friend. In reality, you would be texting Jisung, your mutual friend of Minho’s.

He knew how you felt. He was the only one who noticed and soon became one of your bestest friends. Still, it was different from how you felt for Minho.

You would have been afraid for the first three months that you only liked him as he was your only close guy ‘friend’. But that wasn’t it at all. You became friends with Han Jisung and the truth was: there was nothing about your feelings for this kind youth that could compare to how you felt about Minho.

You would be texting Jisung, your heart slipping with every laugh the boy next to you forced out towards his ex-friend and maybe not ex-love. So when you heard the next words he said to you, you didn’t know what to do.

“Sorry Y/N, can we hang out more next time? We’re going to reconnect and I don’t want you to feel left out.”

You would smile tightly and say yes. You would then see the mixed look of shame and pity on Daeun’s face. She saw. She saw that you liked him.

She would then smile very gently and sorrowfully. And you would never see her again after that day.

But you would see Minho again and you certainly didn’t want to at the moment. This would be the first time he had ever cancelled on you for someone else.

You would leave the three of them and find a public bathroom somewhere, lock yourself in a stall, and cry in there.

Were these feelings worth it? Why did you wish you had never met him? That he had never called? That you had hung up? That he had hung up? That you never asked to meet up? That he never said yes?

You would stay there for a while and for thirty minutes you’d ignore the spam Jisung was sending you asking if you were okay and to meet up.

With trembling hands, you would respond to him and you’d go to his dorm (shared with Minho). You would cry as he hugs you and stay like that.

Minho would come in, see the two of you hugging, and not know how to react. He'd be mad for starters. Secondly, be confused on why he’s mad. And third, screw it and just turn his anger (made by a mysterious reason and seeing Daeun) on you for no reason.

Your first fight with him would take place. Not the bickering, teasing kind you’d always have with him but a shouting argument, dry and with glowering looks.

You’d stalk off, leaving the dorm in pent-up rage, your voice thick and tight as you yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d be gone and Minho would be lying on his bed, a blank poker expression on his face. He'd apologize to Jisung and ask, “Why _did_ I do that?”

To which Jisung replied, “Do what?” And to that, the whole story would come tumbling out of his roommate’s lips, about Daeun and Hyunjin and him pushing you away.

But when the younger boy left to go buy some food from the convenience store, Minho was left with his own thoughts.

He would put his left hand up to the air, grasping at nothing, thinking. You were on his mind; the image of you and Jisung was on his mind. Why did that bother him so much?

Did he like you? Was he jealous? Was it pathetic that it took him this long to notice his feelings, that it took jealousy to recognize the irregular beating of his heart whenever he thought of you? Or was it just a sense of betrayal? Instead of being each other’s safe place, you found that connection with Jisung?

After ignoring his calls for almost an entire week, you would respond to his call. You would meet up and he wouldn’t stop apologizing until you finally laughed.

He only apologized about ditching you though.

He couldn’t bring himself to say that he was also angry that you had gone to Jisung to be comforted, not him. But then again: why were you crying in the first place?

But again, his tongue couldn’t form those words. So instead, Minho talked about his conversation with Daeun and Hyunjin.

So the two of you would have moved on from your first fight. But when the next months flew by and as summer arrived, Minho came to a conclusion.

He would be in love with you. It would start off as a trickle of water. A sense of betrayal that was almost jealousy.

But before he would know it, every movement you would mesmerize him, every detail of your face and body, the things he learned about you every time you talked, and how he forgot everything and everyone else when with you.

Dammit, he would be falling so hard. Fireworks, not butterflies. The first thought on his mind when he wakes up would be you (after cursing the alarm clock). The last thought on his mind before he falls asleep would be you. He would stay up late, his mind so preoccupied with everything you do and how you make his heart explode. But when he would fall asleep, he would be thinking of you.

He would try too hard not to be obvious, but the ridiculous, goofy grin on his face would show up whenever you called him. It would be obvious by the way he perked up, suddenly engaging in a conversation that mentioned you.

His heart would pound, giddy and excited. Just saying your name would make him happy, and he would fall and fall and fall. He would feel so safe with you but he couldn’t dare to tell you how he felt.

But you noticed. The constant glow he had, his nervous habit of scratching the back of his neck, the way he was almost always smiling.

You would ask, “Minho, do you like someone?” You didn’t dare think it was you. You could just tell he was into someone again and you were afraid of his answer yet again.

At times it would be unbearable. You would want to tell him you liked him, perhaps loved him, to finally confess this secret you’ve been holding in your heart so long. He knew most everything else about you, but not this.

He would stutter. He would blank, his body perfectly frozen as he blinked. “W-what?”

Then he would shove his hands into the pocket of his black sweatshirt (the one you wore) and say, “Yeah. I do.”

Ah. “Who?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Okay.”

That was it. That was all for that conversation. He had never hidden anything from you before about romance but so be it.

The night continued, but the mood had changed. You both had something on your minds and simply neither could pay that much attention to the mindless conversation you had afterwards. But at the same time, you were both desperate to keep talking to each other, keep being near each other, keep being safe.

But love was not safe. Nothing would ever happen if you wouldn’t step out into the uncharted territory, shaky but still standing.

Someone had to be bold and hold out their hand. Treacherous desire, trembling infinities of love.

—

After walking you back to your apartment and leaving the building, Minho walked outside, mentally going over what just happened.

He liked you. He liked everything about you. The discomfort of you not knowing how he felt was killing him and he was finally taking a stand for it. Why did you have to ask him that question?

He turned around on his heel, sprinting towards the stairs. He knew you always took the stairs because you were scared of elevators. You’d gotten stuck in one once as a kid and refused to go on anymore unless you had to.

“Goddamn it,” Minho muttered. It was an open staircase. As stupid as it felt to him, he couldn’t move. The fear of being grabbed? Even though it was impossible and there was no one below him, the height scared him.

What the hell was he even doing? His hands shook. His nerves were like Jello and a million doubts swam around in his mind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He inhaled sharply and ran up two flights of stairs before seeing your head disappear around the corner.

“Y/N!”

You turned around at the familiar voice. “What the…?”

“Minho, what are you doing here?” You furrowed your eyebrows and your heartbeat accelerated meeting his eyes.

He sighed, hands on his knees. “What the fuck else would I be doing?”

_Ten steps away._

He walked up a few steps before stopping again, clutching the railing with white knuckles.

_Seven steps away._

“Hey, are you—are you okay? Don’t push yourself! Stop, let me just come to you.”

“No! I—I'll feel better on the actual floor. Just stay there.”

_Five steps away._

_Three._

_One._

Exhaling, he finally reached the top. Minho collapsed on his knees.

“Dude, what is it? Why did you do that?” Ouch. Was he getting dude-zoned before he even confessed?

Sighing for the seventeenth time, Minho looked up straight at you and said, “I like you.”

Stunned silence. He looked down again, his voice getting much quieter and softer.

“I’ve liked you for the last two months and I’m so fucking into you. The person I like is you. And I know you don’t feel the same but I just had to tell you because it felt like I was _dying_. I don’t like Daeun, I like you. I just think about you every day and I can’t fucking help it and I—”

“You’re an idiot.”

Wide-eyed, he stared up at you. “What?”

You knelt down, your hands daring to cup his face. His skin was soft. “You’re an idiot. I like you too. I’ve liked you for so long, I've liked you since… not the moment I met you but with every passing second after that first day I’ve liked you more. So you can shut up about not feeling the same because I like you _so much_.”

“So...”

Your words trailed off as he slowly put his arms around your waist. The unspoken question was asked. _Yes_.

You kissed him and _oh_. His lips were much softer than you had imagined.

Soft, slow, gentle, and innocent. You could feel every single nerve on your lips tingling and alighting. It wasn’t fireworks—but the feeling that he wanted you was unmistakable.

When your lips finally parted, the first thing the two of you did was laugh bashfully. You awkwardly asked, “Would it be dumb if I said that was my first kiss?”

Minho shook his head enthusiastically. “Not if it would be selfish if I said I’m glad I’m the first person you’ve ever kissed?”

Both of you giggled. “A little bit selfish, yeah. But not if…”

He gulped. “Not if?”

“You know! If we were dating,” you very very quietly said those last four words, almost embarrassed you even said them.

Stars sparked in his eyes and he yell-asked, “We’re dating?”

You clamped a hand on his mouth. “Shhh! Not so fucking loud! and I, I mean if you want to—”

“Y/N, are you serious?” Minho took your hand off his mouth. “Did you not hear the I’m fucking into you’? Because I’m pretty sure that means yes. Yes, I want to date you.”

His ears turned red and he just sighed, flustered. “You’re too much sometimes… the way I have to explain the most obvious things.”

“Hey, I’m not that much of a dumbass!” You playfully glared at him.

Minho stood up, his hand still on yours and he pulled you up. Then he winked and countered, “No. You’re my dumbass. So help me go down these stairs or I swear I’ll break through a wall.”

Gathering up your courage, you laced your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “Then break a wall!”

Bickering all the way down, you and Minho walked hand in hand.

Later that night, after the two of you barely tore away from each other, you laid on your bed. You burst out squealing, rolling around in bed.

Your phone rang, interrupting your … love session. You looked at the dialer and giggled, pressing the call button.

“I like you! I like you and you’re my girlfriend.” The voice coming from your phone was happy and goofy. “And neither of us are leaving and I didn’t call the wrong number and I like you.”

“It’s me, Minho.” The déjà vu made you laugh.

_I feel like I've finally found you, the one I've been searching for my whole life._

“Yeah. This is the right number.”

**Author's Note:**

> PLASDKLFJAS I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THERE'S A LOT THAT'S UNEXPLORED HERE BC THEN IT WOULDN'T BE JUST A ONESHOT if you're here thank you for reading ily >:((


End file.
